


Here Away From Myself

by magdarko



Category: NCIS
Genre: Injury, M/M, idk descriptions of blood
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2008-02-08
Updated: 2008-02-08
Packaged: 2018-01-26 00:33:46
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 479
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1668218
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/magdarko/pseuds/magdarko
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Gibbs has to tell him now.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Here Away From Myself

**Author's Note:**

> Reposting from [gibbs_dinozzo](gibbs-dinozzo.livejournal.com).

Gibbs has to tell him now: now, when the pain has taken away his need for anger, now when Tony’s hands are on him sure and strong and gentle, staunching the flow of his blood and keeping Gibbs’ life inside his skin.  
   
Gibbs reaches up with his good hand, and scrabbles for a moment; he manages to find Tony’s hand where it is clamped around his shoulder, and wraps his fingers around Tony’s. Tony’s hand is slick with Gibbs’ blood as he tightens his grip, and Tony’s eyes dart up from Gibbs’ shoulder to meet his eyes.  
   
“Gibbs? What—?”  
   
Tony’s eyes are a little wild and panicky, belying the steadyness of his other hand as it keeps up the pressure on Gibbs’ wound. His face is pale, but his jaw is set, and Gibbs feels… reassured. Safe. Safe, despite the pins-and-needles numbness spreading from his shoulder down his arm down his fingers, little sparks of silver-grey non-feeling spilling out from his fingertips onto the dusty floor.  
   
He flexes his fingers around Tony’s, and says, “Tony. I— I don’t want you to transfer.”  
   
Tony’s face goes from determined to shocked, and if this were anywhere else, if this had happened any other way, Gibbs would have looked away by now, ashamed that he had no reason, no excuse, no inducement to add to the words, nothing to give Tony but his desire to keep him. But here, in this place, in this moment, he does not look away.  
   
Tony’s mouth works, and he parts his lips to say— anything, but then his eyes go from wild and panicky and shocked to _blazing._ Blazing and fierce and beautiful, and if Gibbs could look away now, he would, because Tony’s eyes are searing through him, making more flays and cuts and going all the way in, all the way down.  
   
“Gibbs,” Tony says, and his voice is everything that Gibbs knows Tony really is, deep down in the place where he stops pretending. “Gibbs,” he says, “I’m not going _anywhere_ ,” and Gibbs hears the truth of his words, _sees_ the truth of his words, because Tony’s eyes are telling him everything: he sees why the letter was placed on his desk four days ago, and why it will be gone when he goes back to it, and why Tony will be sitting at his own desk, his smile creasing his face, his gaze as warm and steady as his hands on Gibbs are now.  
   
He wants to say it, to tell Tony that he understands, but all he can say is Tony’s name. “Tony,” he says, and holds Tony’s hand close to him, Tony’s hand that is red with Gibbs’ blood. He tightens the curl of his fingers, and feels the hand on his shoulder tighten in response, staunching the flow of his blood and keeping his life inside his skin.  
  
 _-fin-_


End file.
